tried the private wire to the McFarlane cottage with no better result.

At this point the burglar spoke.

"Oh, what the devil!" he said mildly; "I can't stand here with my hands
over my head all night."

"You'll stand there," replied Geoffrey with some temper, "until I'm
ready for you to move."

"And when will that be?"

"When this fool of a Central answers."

"Oh, not as long as that, I hope," said the burglar, "because, to tell
the truth, I always cut the telephone wires before I enter a house."

There was a pause in which it was well Geoffrey did not see the artless
smile of satisfaction which wreathed the burglar's face. At length
Geoffrey said:

"In that case you might as well sit down, for we seem likely to stay
here until morning." He calculated that by that time, Mrs. McFarlane,
alarmed at his absence, would send some one to look for him,--some one
who could be used as a messenger to fetch the constable.

To this suggestion the burglar appeared to acquiesce, for he sank at
once into an armchair--an armchair toward which Holland himself was
making his way, knowing it to be the most comfortable for an all-night
session. Feeling the absurdity of making any point of the matter,